Why I hate the WorldMature

A girl vs. the world

In kindergarten people made fun of me asking me if I was a boy or a girl. I didn't have a single friend until third grade but I was still the laughing stalk of the school.

My dad promised me when I was 5 that he was only going on vacation and that he would be back soon. Lied straight to my face because he never came back and I just found out he left me, his only daughter the one he supposedly loved unconditionally for some girl he met over the internet.

In eighth grade my two best friends moved and I started to cut myself and I didn't want to talk because of how self-conscious I was, I had no friends that I could trust and once again kids made fun of me and threatened to beat me up, of course none of them could follow threw with it.

Later that year I was about to kill my self I was talking to Michaela on the phone and she talked me out of it, but if she hadn't I probably would have been in the hospital, or dead I was seriously dead set on the idea I got 6 pain killers in my system before I stopped because of her pleading over the phone. Most of the time I wish I would have fallen threw with it because I know now I don't have the guts to do it.

I think most of my anxiety comes from everybody always using me as their punching bag ever since kindergarten all the way to middle school I was never told I was pretty except by my best friends no guy ever liked which also put my in a shell. I cried all most every time I took a shower because of how much I wanted it all to end.

Now I do drugs to escape my thinking patterns and be normal for once and actually I have gotten a lot more friends at school now because they know I smoke pot. I wanted to be drug free but everybody just offers it to me now I don't know why but it's hard to say no. All I've ever wanted was to be except and the only way to do that is to sacrifice morals and pleasing the people I care most about. Which I hate because I just want to be normal.

I truthfully don't know who I am I act different around different people so I can't say who I am I could be the fun quirky Becky, the depressed Becky, or the bitchy one. Your guess is as good as mine. I just don't understand how having a messed up child hood could make me so self conscious and hating myself everyday. This is pretty much the reason why I hate people.

The End

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